


The Gift

by elrhiarhodan



Series: The Wonder(ful) Years Verse [13]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Christmas, Coming Out, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domesticity, Family, M/M, Schmoop, Sharing a Bed, parental understanding, wonder(ful) years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 15:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrhiarhodan/pseuds/elrhiarhodan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gentle coda to the intense emotional scenes between Peter and Neal and Peter’s loving and accepting parents, as told in <a href="http://elrhiarhodan.livejournal.com/302543.html">Love is Never Wrong</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift

After the high and terrible emotions, the revelations, the understanding, the _love_ , life in the Burke household settled back to normal – a new normal. He and Neal were curled up on one of the couches; Neal relaxing against him in a way they never would have just a few short hours ago. His mother was on “her” couch, knitting. The television was on, George Bailey was learning just how much he was loved and needed in _It’s a Wonderful Life_. The volume was low, a gentle accompaniment to this amazing new rhythm in their lives.

There was another counterpoint, Neal was sniffling and coughing and Peter worried that he was going to end up sick again. 

“You okay?” He handed him the box of tissues.

“I’ll be all right.” Neal coughed and glared at Peter, as if it were _his_ fault.

“Hey, I wasn’t the one recovering from pneumonia who went outside today – twice – without a coat.” 

Neal shrugged and snuggled a little closer, maneuvering himself under his arm so his head was against Peter’s chest. Peter looked up at his mom, who just smiled at him. When Neal coughed, that smile turned to a worried frown and she got up and fetched an afghan.

“Thanks.” Neal all but batted his eyes at his mom as she spread the warm blanket over him.

She looked over both of them, her expression as warm and as caring, as loving as Peter could ever remember. “I’m not going to scold you, Neal Caffrey – my son seems to be doing a good job of that without my help.”

“But?” Of course Neal had to press the boundaries.

“But if you go out without a coat on again, I’m going to …” She bit her lip, at a loss for a suitable punishment.

“Okay, okay – I promise.” Neal closed his eyes and muffled a cough; Peter tucked the blanket in a tighter.

All the anxieties of the last few days, the dread and the anticipation of grief and loss, were transformed into something so warm, so perfect – a nameless, formless, unbounded happiness. As if all of the missing pieces of his life had just slipped into place.

Neal dozed against him as he took more time to look through the old photograph album, trying to put together the story of his father’s life, and that of his lost uncle and his partner. There were no hints or clues to the tragedy that was to define his father’s and his view of the world. He was just a baby, then a boy playing with the older brother who so clearly loved him.

He sighed, a quiet exhalation, and turned the page, still trying to find answers when a shocking question interrupted his musings.

“Okay, which bedroom are you two going to be sleeping in?”

Peter looked up from the old photograph album. “Dad?” He hadn’t heard his father come back into the family room.

He stood there, hands on his hips, and an oddly mischievous expression on his face. “I asked, which bedroom would you boys – excuse me – guys – prefer?”

Peter felt his face go beet red. “Umm, dad – why do you need to know that?”

“Well, I thought I’d give you a hand – or you could give me a hand – and we’d put your beds into the same room. No need for you to sleep separately now, is there?”

Peter looked helplessly at Neal, who was doing his best to hide under the afghan. His mother was no help either, refusing to look up from her knitting.

“I guess my room will be fine.” 

He pulled the blanket away from Neal, who had buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Peter suddenly realized that Neal was stifling hysterical laughter. He gently shoved at him. “Come on, you twerp, give us a hand.”

Neal wiped his eyes and got up, letting out a ferocious sneeze. The three of them trooped into Neal’s bedroom and without any comment, proceeded to shift the twin bed, box spring and frame into Peter’s room. Still without comment, furniture was moved and the two beds set up side by side.

At some point, his mother joined the silent taskforce, standing at the door with her hands on her hips.

“You know, Joe …”

His dad grinned and shook his head. “Cath – when you say my name like that, I know it’s going to cost me money.”

His mother smiled back. “Our bed is getting a little old …”

“There’s nothing wrong with our bed, love.”

“I said, _our bed is getting old_ …” 

Peter could almost see the italics in his mother’s words.

“And maybe we can replace it and put the old one in here.” She continued.

It was kind of fun watching the light dawn in his father’s eyes. “Oh, yeah. Right.”

“There are sales in February – we should go looking.”

Peter went to stand next to Neal, who was looking as his parents like he’d never seen them before. Even with all of the drama earlier this evening, Peter was still a bit bewildered. _Who were these people?_ But he took pleasure in the confusion, it made him happy and he couldn’t deny the relief he felt each moment he realized that his folks still loved him, still accepted him. And more importantly, accepted _them_.

“Are we still going to see your family tomorrow, Aunt Cathy?” 

Until Neal asked, Peter had completely forgotten about the traditional Christmas day celebration and food fest at his grandparent’s house.

“Of course. I don’t see why anything should be different.” His mother shrugged. “Do you want to tell everyone else?”

He bit his lip and looked over at Neal, who shrugged but had a worried look in his eye. “I don’t know – I really hadn’t thought past telling you and Dad. Maybe we’ll talk to Uncle Tommy, but otherwise …”

She kissed his cheek. “Whatever you want to do, we’ll stand by you.”

Peter hugged her. “Thank you. You are the best.” He turned to his dad. “You, too. We’ll discuss it tonight and let you know.”

His mom went to kiss Neal, who ducked his head and blushed. And sneezed.

The moment turned awkward and his dad herded his mom out of the room. “We’ll get out of your hair. Don’t stay up too late – we’ve got presents to open in the morning.”

Neal spoke up. “You’ve already given us the best present possible.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Joe kept an ear towards the boys’ end of the house, he just wanted to make sure they were settled in and comfortable. And then admonished himself, he really needed to stop thinking of them as boys – they were grown men. It was quiet.

Not that he expected to hear them having sex. Not that he wanted to hear that – god, no. 

Cathy came up behind him and wrapped her hands around his waist, leaning her head against his back. “Merry Christmas, Joe.”

He took a deep sigh and turned to face his wife. “Do you know how much I love you?”

“No more, no less than I love you.” He kissed her, gently, happily.

They leaned against each other and walked towards their bedroom. This was going to be the best Christmas, ever.

__

FIN


End file.
